Small Town
by Just Stay HIV Positive
Summary: It was a joke. It had to be. A really frightening drabble based 100% on what happened to me last night. The story isn't that scary, just the fact that it actually happened to me
1. Chapter 1

Hi. I know, I'm in the middle of a multi-chap fic right now but this one-shot needed to be written for two reasons:

**1. I'm still planning ideas for the next chapter in my head and 2. This is 100% based on a true story that actually happened to me. Tonight. In fact, this is practically an autobiography of tonight. Needless to say, it scared the shit out of me. Typing is pretty hard right now since my hands are shaking so much.**

**Disclaimer: South Park is not mine. This experience however is. **

**Small Towns**

"Finally!" I sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall that finally showed the time I had been hoping to see for the last few hours. 11:00. Closing time.

"I am so far behind on my close." Stan groaned, "I still have to wipe all the counters and I have a mountain of dishes to do." I sighed in agreement.

"I know what you mean, I've barely started." It had been a long day working at Dairy Queen, with customers lined up to the door for most of the evening. The bulk of the staff had left at ten leaving only myself, Stan and Kenny who was cleaning the fryers in the kitchen. I still had to empty out all three of the tills and clean out the two ice cream machines. The warm weather brought the people of South Park to Dairy Queen like mice to cheese. I opened the first till and began to take out the cash, straightening the bills.

"What a night." Stan sighed, cleaning spilled toppings from the stainless steel counter.

"Ow!" I exclaimed suddenly, glaring at the paper cut that had appeared in the tender skin between my thumb and index finger. I sucked the blood off, wincing as my saliva entered the tiny cut.

"What's up?" He asked, glancing over curiously.

"Paper cut," I sighed, "Why does it always have to be in the worst places? Like right between the fingers. Ugh." Stan nodded sympathetically.

"Paper cuts are the worst." He agreed. I grimaced as I straightened the last of the money, putting it and the rolled coins in a brown paper bag. The three of us worked in silence for a while, too tired from the long shift to make much conversation.

"Well at least it's a nice day." Stan sighed, "I think I'm going to walk home tonight, I need some fresh air after today." Wiping down the ice cream machine I nodded.

"No kidding, I think I'll walk too." My mom would probably freak, she didn't like the thought of me walking alone at night. _Please, we're in a small town, what can happen? _Stan sighed and stepped back from the counter.

"Almost done, I just have to do my dishes and take out the garbage." I sighed. I wasn't anywhere close to done yet; it would probably be one in the morning before I got to go home.

"Kyle, I think I'm done." Kenny called from in the kitchen area. I put down the coins I was rolling and walked into the kitchen to double-check his cleaning job. Absentmindedly I ran through the checklist in my mind. Fryers off, counter clean, condiments put away…

"Yeah, you can probably go home, Kenny. Just remember to take out your garbage before you go." He nodded and I turned back to the straightening the money from the last till.

"Kyle…? Can…you come here?" I heard Stan's voice and frowned. It sounded kind of strange. I put down the coins again and followed the voice to the back door. It was a joke. That was the only explanation I could think of. A masked figure was holding knife to my friend's throat and regarding me over Stan's shoulder. Of course it was a joke. Stuff like this didn't happen in small towns.

"Kyle…get the money…" Stan said in a trembling voice. _This is a joke. They're just trying to see if I'll fall for it._ I hesitated, still convinced this wasn't real. I studied Stan's face carefully, trying to see if he was acting.

"C'mon," I scoffed, "Craig is that you? Clyde?"

"Kyle…please…get the money." Stan was starting to cry. My heart started pounding then. _Oh god…this can't be…real…_ Numbly I nodded, feeling my body begin to tremble. I went back into the store and around the corner where I couldn't be seen. Kenny walked next to me, eyes wide.

"Is…"

"Kenny, call 911, and tell them we're being robbed." I said in a low voice. Eyes wide, Kenny fumbled out his cell phone. Maybe we could just sit tight until the cops came.

"…Kyle…" Stan sounded terrified. The thought of anything happening to him because of my indecision was too much to bear.

"Coming." I called, trying to keep my voice steady. Without another thought I grabbed the brown paper bag that held at least a thousand dollars cash. With a pounding heart and trembling hands I hurried back to the scene in the back. I extended my shaking hand with the rolled up paper bag. The knife holder grabbed it and pushed Stan towards the door.

"Get in." He growled roughly shoving us both in and slamming the door inches from my nose. I poked my head out anyway to see the black-clad figure sprinting to the opposite end of the parking lot and disappearing into the night. Still shaking I retreated back inside. Stan was slumped against the counter, his body shuddering.

"Are…are you okay?" I was mentally kicking myself for thinking this was a joke. My friend had been a hair away from dying at the point of a knife and I had scoffed. I didn't think it was possible to feel like a bigger asshole. Stan didn't reply, he shakily dug out his cell and dialed 911, despite the fact that Kenny was already on his phone. Not knowing what to do, I just watched, offering details as my two friends described the assailant to the person on the other line. I had to admit I was fairly impressed with how fast the police arrived. Within minutes the parking lot was bathed in red and blue lights. Numbly I walked to the door, turning the deadbolt to let the officers in. _I can't believe it. Things like this don't happen in small towns like ours. _I glanced from Stan who was struggling not to start hyperventilating as he answered the questions, to Kenny, whose eyes were still as wide as dinner plates. I looked down at my own hands that were shaking so hard it looked like they were going through a seizure. _Crap, my mom was right. I don't think I'll ever walk home again._

Okay, I know it wasn't even a very good story at all and it's probably the shortest most pointless thing I've ever written, but like I said, this is almost exactly what happened to me. And like I said, it scared the shit out of me. I hail from a tiny city and trust me, this is the first I've ever even heard of armed robbery in my city, nevermind actually witnessed it. And yes, I thought it was a joke and I still feel like an asshole. :( Well, sorry for those of you that had to read this; I'm going back to my other story now.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, the response I got from this short little one-shot last Friday was really impressive. Honestly I wasn't really impressed with it, but yeah that totally happened and I'm still super-paranoid and you guys all rule. But you already knew that XP. Anyway, this was supposed to just be a one-shot, but as I was reading your amazing reviews for this story I was inspired by Tikal Tyrant who said I should post another chapter with the outcome of this whole mess. (Your review made me squirt orange juice out of my nose by the way "I hope the man is caught and thrown in jail where he gets sodomized…in the ass!" Lol XD). Okay, this chapter isn't a very good conclusion, hell it's another damn cliffhanger if anything, but again, this totally happened. I feel like I'm stuck in a stupid cliché TV show or something.

**As far as updates for this story go, well, it'll get updated as it unfolds. Hopefully it will have a good conclusion, cuz I really have no idea how any of this is going to work out.**

**Ok, last Author's note: Sorry for the terrible OOCness in this chapter. See, the problem is that I'm really not basing the characters in this story on the personalities from the show but on the real-life personalities of the people involved in this thing. (huh…I guess that kinda defeats the purpose of fanfiction…oh well) Basically what I'm saying is that for example, me and the guy who got held at knifepoint are not best buds like Stan and Kyle. (I don't even know his last name XP) so some of the things that Kyle would probably actually do, I won't cuz I don't even know this guy. Okay, now I'm probably confusing you. Read the story, you'll get it.**

With a groan I dropped my backpack beside my chair and flopped into my seat. Friday. Last class. _I can get through it._ I tried not to think about the fact that I would have to go to work right after school for the next eight hours.

"How's it going?" I glanced up at the two other people at my table, Wendy and Bradley. They were the only other people in my Pre-Calc class that I knew so I sat at their table.

"It's been a long week." I replied with a sigh. That was the understatement of the year. Today was Friday. Exactly one week from the 'incident'. I'd had a very paranoid week. It definitely hadn't helped matters that I had to go to work the Saturday and Sunday after we got robbed. It had been two very stressful evenings with me glancing over my shoulder every other minute to make absolutely sure the back door was locked. We had taken the garbage out in a group of three that night, Kenny, Jason and I, walking back-to-back and staring down every dark corner. I felt sort of bad for the skateboarding kid who chose the wrong moment to walk by. We probably looked like we were going to jump him. The fact that we were all visibly armed with kitchen knives probably did nothing to put him at ease either. Sunday night had been especially long. After eight hours of paranoia I'd had to go to the police station to give my witness statement. For two freaking hours! By the time I'd stumbled through our front door it was almost three in the morning. The fact that I'd been forced to relive the terrifying experience definitely did nothing to aid my sleep that night. Yeah, it'd been a pretty grueling week.

Wendy had heard about the incident on Monday. The moment I walked into class she had given me a worried look then proceeded to hug me. I'd stood there awkwardly accepting the hug. It was kind of weird since Wendy wasn't much of a hugger, even with her girlfriends, the only one who really got a good dose of her affection was her boyfriend, Token. She was pretty mortified by the story, especially since she had recently quit working there. For some reason these kind of things really seem to hit home when you think _Oh crap, that could have been me…_

Our teacher walked into the room then. _Crap. Sub._ Honestly I liked our Pre-Calc teacher. He was a short little man, a little spastic at times, but he was an excellent teacher. Wendy groaned quietly. I recognized this guy. Mr. I-don't-care-what-you're-talking-about-this-room-has-to-be-silent-enough-to-hear-a-pin-drop. Yeah, I think that was his name. Our regular teacher really didn't care if we did work in his class or not. He would give his lesson for half the class then the rest was our time. If we wanted to work, fine, if we wanted to waste the time talking and take the work home, fine, as long as it got done, he really didn't care. Wendy glanced at the front and once she was sure the sub was occupied with whatever was on his monitor, she leaned closer.

"Hey, Kyle, I wanted to tell you something about Stan and last Friday, but you have to keep it a secret." Bradley was leaning in too.

"You too." She added. He nodded. I smiled and agreed. This really wasn't too hard for me. I was kind of a dead end for gossip; I heard a lot of stuff, but didn't usually find a need to repeat it. Wendy wasn't really a gossiper either; she would only repeat things that had relevance. Not a "he said" "she said" kind of person.

"Because if I'm wrong about this," she continued, "I will look like a total asshole." I nodded again. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice.

"Stan was caught shoplifting this week." I blinked in surprise. This was hardly the news I was expecting. Well, I didn't really know what I'd been expecting, but this definitely wasn't it. "Apparently he and his buddies go to Mega Mart during their lunch, Verne has seen them often and he's suspected they've been stealing, but just can't prove it." _Stealing…often? Stan? Even after…?_ Wendy's eyes intensified as she went on "Do you think it's possible that…last Friday…maybe it was kind of planned?" I blinked again, considering this possibility anew. The police had asked the same question while I had been giving my statement. At the time, I hadn't even hesitated to guarantee Stan's innocence, but presented with this new tidbit of information my mind began to wonder…

"Was he texting at all during his shift?" Wendy pressed. I thought back. A dozen images of Stan tapping away on the tiny keys of his silver phone flashed through my mind, but I wasn't sure if I could place any of them to that Friday…was it possible?

"Maybe…" I said hesitantly "I really didn't pay much attention…" I had been far more concerned with finishing my part of the close and getting home.

"You did tell me you thought it was a joke at first…Do you think…?" She left her question unfinished, but she didn't have to finish it. I considered this carefully. I know that Stan and I hadn't been as close as we used to be. We weren't in any of the same classes and even had different lunch hours so he hung out with a different group than in elementary school. We just kind of went our separate paths.

"The guy with the knife, what did he look like?" She asked. I described the guy again and I could tell she was mentally comparing the assailant to Stan's circle of friends. Finally she looked at me and asked.

"What do you think?" I closed my eyes and envisioned that scene again, the one that had played through my mind countless times that week. Stan's terrified face, struggling to stay calm. My friend's eyes filling with tears as he told me to get the money. Him collapsing against the counter, too shaken to move. I only had to replay it once to be completely certain. There was no way. Hollywood's best couldn't have come close.

"I'm sure it was the real thing." I told her confidently. She nodded and let the issue go, turning back to her paper. My mind however, was far from logarithms and factorial notation. _Damn it, why did you have to put that thought in my head?_

Told you it was a sucky ending. Unfortunately, that's the ending I'm stuck with in my life too. (Although, cliffhangers bug me so much that if I don't get a real conclusion in my life I'll probably make one up on fanfiction XD) Again, sorry for the OOCness. (I didn't plan on going further than a one-shot or I would have made the main characters someone more fitting) I think that Kyle would probably confront Stan if he heard something like that but like I said, I don't know this guy at all so I'm sure as hell not going to do that. (That's why I added the whole cliché 'drifting apart' bit in there, to make it seem a little more realistic). Anywho, if you're wondering, I share Kyle's point of view, I don't think this thing was an inside job, I'm convinced it was the real deal, but it is a bit disturbing to hear that this guy was caught shoplifting. Well, I'll keep you guys posted as stuff happens.

And just for the record, we did scare the shit out of some poor kid with a skateboard when we were taking out the garbage. I think it was the knives. Looking back, its actually kinda funny, lol. Sorry.


End file.
